200 Word Drabble: Ectoplasm Means True Love

[attackfish]

In which I try shallowly and cruelly to make the death of adolescents funny

Disclaimer:  I'm not affiliated with J.K. Rowling or any other assorted individuals who can lay claim to the Harry Potter universe

Ectoplasm Means True Love

Sirius Black, the best loved and youngest professor at Hogwarts, and brave, foolish Gryffindor in his own school days, hid under his covers, shivering.  A kind man might have asserted that he wasn’t hiding but trying to sleep, and that he wasn’t shivering in fear, but shuddering in disgust, but he was hiding and shivering.

 

“If you really loved me, Severus, you’d come live with me in my toilet.”

 

To his credit, Shrieking Severus, appropriately named, in Sirius’ opinion, but named more for his place of death than for his habits, stared at her nonplussed.  “But it’s a girl’s toilet!”

 

The only two Hogwarts students who had ever died at the school at the hands (or jaws, or eyes) of monsters set upon them by fellow students floated above the bed as Sirius reflected that he disliked having anything in common with Voldemort as much as he disliked teaching.  Myrtle started sniffling.  ‘You can’t like Professor Black’s company more than mine.”

 

Sirius grinned under the covers as indignant noises erupted from Severus.  He poked his head out.  “She’s right you know.”  Severus spent his afterlife haunting Sirius in revenge.  It was working.

 

They both glared down at him.  “Shut up.”